Slice of Life
by Paceismyhero
Summary: "A month and eight pies later, they were finally at the point in their relationship where he'd gotten her talking rather openly to him. But, unfortunately, he was still a huge coward." A/U two-part fic where Peeta is a frequent customer to the diner where Katniss works, unable to work up the nerve to admit his true feelings to her - until a life-or-death moment. Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I wrote this awhile ago, but I'm only now going to post it because I really need to start writing again, and I figured posting it was the only real way to get me motivated to finish the second part. This part is from Peeta' POV, and the second will be Katniss'; they will be pretty equal in size, so nothing epic. Please let me know what you think, especially since I don't dabble in the Everlark world too often (and never with any fanfare. haha). THANKS!

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Peeta opened the front door to the Panem Diner with an enthusiastic pull, his smile widening once the bell attached to the hinge rang upon his entrance and only one person (of the three he could see inside) bothered to look up. Her mixed expression of a scowl with a playful glint in her steel gray eyes only managed to elevate his mood more, and he outstretched his other hand in presentation of the covered paper plate tight in his grip. He strolled to one of the many open seats at the front counter, knowing from experience that it was the best position for him to partake in as much conversation with his favorite waitress as possible on the off chance business picked up.

"Turn that frown upside down, Everdeen. I come bearing my latest example of what you call food, but what others would consider art."

"Do we need to have yet another talk about what exactly it is we do here?" She asked with a teasing clip in her voice, her hands nestling into the pockets on her small apron after she'd written an order slip for what he presumed was his usual. "If you're able to make such mastery in the kitchen, then I suggest you avoid the overpriced, overcooked eggs here. And maybe sleep in later than four in the morning, too."

He grinned at her normal argument, pushing the plate as close to the edge of the counter as he could before it would fall off. "But then I'd miss the delightful conversation shared between us."

She rolled her eyes at him but sighed in what he could guess was more exhaustion than an actual win. Still, she bent down enough to rest her elbows on the counter and looked down at the offered treat with actual interest, so one-for-one. "What did you make this time?"

"Made specifically with you in mind," he started, pulling off the foil and rotating the plate so the single triangle faced her perfectly, "is my soon-to-be-famous, freshly baked, apple and pear pie."

He watched her examine the dessert a little deeper, using her intense scrutiny for his own advantage to stare. Peeta had been coming to the diner every day for the past few months, always at the same time and _always_ hoping to spend just a few moments with Katniss. She'd captivated him the second he'd walked in that first day, his feet nearly tripping over themselves because he needed his whole body still to truly appreciate the sound of her humming a sweet melody to no one but herself as she refilled salt shakers. He was instantly a goner, but also a huge coward; it took more than a month for him to even talk to her, and that had only been by her doing. He couldn't even remember what had been going wrong that particular day, but she'd allegedly noticed a change in his mood - which must have been unsettling since he was sure his normal attitude had been a weird overeager mute hybrid every other day prior - and offered him a slice of pie on the house. It was a nice gesture, and enough of an olive branch that Peeta found himself uttering his first words to the raven beauty that had nothing to do with pleasantries or his order.

" _I, uh, actually work in a bakery." He cleared his throat when she turned back to face him, her eyebrow cocked up in question. "That's why I'm here so early. Baker's hours."_

 _She frowned slightly, looking down at the pie and then back at him. "I don't know where it's from." She grimaced at the pie again. "It's definitely not homemade."_

" _No," he agreed quietly, noticing the remnants of freezer burn on the crust. "But, still, thank you. It's good." He took another bite to prove he wasn't just being nice, swallowing thickly when she made no move to turn away from him again. "Maybe I can talk to your boss, work out something where we can provide the pie in exchange for … publicity or something," he trailed off clumsily, regrettably considering less-than-pure options in just the short pause._

 _She snorted. "Good luck with that. I don't think Haymitch has changed anything about this place since it opened. Definitely not in the last six years I've worked here."_

" _I like a challenge," he replied quickly, mostly just eager to keep the conversation moving. There were so many questions swirling around in his head. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted her to smile like that again. He wanted_ _ **her**_ _. "What's your favorite?"_

" _Why would that matter?"_

 _He gulped at her intimidating glare, his hands shaking in his lap despite the evenness he was able to keep in his tone. "If I've learned anything from moving to a small town, it's that good word-of-mouth is the only way to earn any respect. If your boss is as stubborn as you say, then I need you to be on my good side first."_

 _The minute that passed between his last word and her first in response was the longest of his life thus far. He'd finally had a real conversation with the girl of his dreams, and her reply to his unasked question was a make or break kind of moment. She'd either let the door that she'd inadvertently opened stay ajar, or she'd slam it back in his face._

" _Well, you're the one who likes challenges." He got his wish; she did smile again. But it was a mix between coy and sinister, and all it managed to do was make him fall harder. "Guess you'll have to figure it out on your own."_

A month and eight pies later, they were finally at the point in their relationship where he'd finally gotten her talking rather openly to him (no easy feat, mind you). But, unfortunately, he was still a huge coward. He knew she'd lived in Panem her whole life and had worked at the diner since she was old enough to wait tables. He knew her father had died when she was young and her mom was basically out of the picture. He knew she had a sister who was going to be a doctor and who she loved more than anyone or anything else in the world. He knew she taught archery at the local recreation center. He knew her favorite color, favorite movie, favorite music genre and pretty much any other favorite humanly possible to work into everyday conversation. All that, and he still had no idea if she liked him as more than just a customer who left a generous tip - mostly because he was terrified to ask.

"Eh," she finally mumbled after having eaten three bites prior. "It's a little dry, but mostly fine."

He scoffed. "Are we talking about the pie or your sense of humor?"

She exaggerated her smile into her next bite, the bemused expression lighting up her features as she chewed. The cook called up his order at the same time the only other two customers waved goodbye, eventually leaving just him eating his standard order of an egg white western omelette with wheat toast and a side of fruit and Katniss finishing her slice of pie before moving in on his fruit cup - also standard.

"Have you ever considered becoming a professional taste tester?" He teased, spearing a piece of cantaloupe out of her grasp with a smile. "I feel the bakery should get first dibs on your services - a founder's fee, or something - despite the fact that you've never actually visited _my_ place of employment."

"Why would I when you're practically a pie-delivering service, reserved just for me?"

He wasn't sure what stopped his heart more: the sing-song quality of her voice or the fact that she'd implied - or at least was hinting, perhaps - he was hers. And vice versa? He inhaled a deep breath, the words he'd been meaning to ask for months now on the tip of his tongue and _finally_ ready to come out with at least better-than-average confidence. But, as fate would have it, the words died in his throat when he watched her gaze drift to the door and then narrow to slits. Her whole body tensed as she stood straight as a pole, his own head picking up when the bell on the door chimed the entrance of another patron.

"Well, well, well," the unfamiliar voice patronized. Peeta watched the man's movement through Katniss' eyes, his back still facing the door while he assessed the situation purely from her point of view.

"What are you doing here?" She glowered harder at the man, which Peeta didn't even think was possible. Katniss wasn't exactly known for being very smilely - yet another reason he took such pride in earning a few on his own - but this wasn't her typical scowl, either. "Weren't you fired?"

"Unfairly," the man grunted, finally stepping into Peeta's periphery. To say he was huge would have been an understatement, and immediately Peeta felt worried about the man's proximity to Katniss. He'd spent the last few months learning everything he possibly could about the woman behind the counter, and he knew this man made her uncomfortable. "But you don't know anything about that. Do you, Kitty Kat?"

"Fuck off, Cato."

It was the man's threatening step toward Katniss that forced Peeta to his feet, moving to stand between the only other two people in the room. Absently, Peeta wondered if Thresh, the cook, would come back from his break in time to help if things got out of hand. After all, Cato certainly had him beat in the height department, but Thresh was still probably an inch or two taller. Luckily for Peeta, his stocky build more than made up the difference. Maybe it was just the adrenaline coursing through him, but he felt fairly good about his chances to protect Katniss - if only because he was blocking her petite frame completely.

"What's this?" Cato asked in amusement, his eyes practically sparkling as he looked between Peeta and Katniss. "Did you finally let someone bend you over the counter, sweetheart?"

"I think you should leave." Peeta didn't even recognize his own voice. It was lower than he'd ever heard it, though there was so much blood rushing by his ears that he wasn't sure he was hearing correctly as it was. His entire body tensed as each second spent with this guy in the diner ticked by, and he couldn't keep the bite out of his tone when he all but growled, "Now."

"Well, _I_ think you should sit the fuck down." Instead of making a move to push Peeta, Cato unbuttoned his jacket, revealing a small handgun holstered between his hip and belt. More blood rushed through Peeta's veins, but he also felt a rush air when Katniss exhaled loudly.

"I see you're still an idiot." Peeta heard her rustling around behind him, but he didn't dare take his gaze off Cato. "You're seriously robbing this place during the Tuesday graveyard shift? Are you mental?"

"Oh, I don't just want the money, Kitty Kat."

His lewd remark paired with the lecherous look he tried to give Katniss over Peeta's head would have been the tipping point if Katniss hadn't placed a plastic bag of money between the two men. "Here. Just take it and go. Moron."

"Next time." Cato winked into his retreat, backing up with a vindictive smile until finally turning to exit the diner.

Peeta wrestled with the urge to chase after him, to do the right thing and catch the bad guy. But, more on the forefront of his mind, he whirled around to face Katniss for the first time since he'd stood, studying her entire frame despite having witnessed no real harm come unto her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She blew out a heavy breath, a mocking smile curving her lips. "Old friend."

"Sure," he exhaled, humor a welcome defense mechanism for the fear that he probably should have felt earlier overtaking most of his senses.

"Are you okay?"

He laughed again humorlessly, though a genuine smile did manage to emerge when the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. "Better now."

"All thanks to your stellar impression of a wall." She blushed a little, lifting a cell phone out of one of the front pockets of her apron. "We're supposed to keep them in the back with our stuff."

"I think Haymitch will forgive you this time." They shared a quiet laugh, drowned out quickly by the commotion outside in what he had to assume was the police force taking down Cato. No shots were fired, but it was that thought - that possibility - that hit Peeta like a ton of bricks. The realization of just how dire things could have gotten and how differently life would be in any of the million of circumstances that could have played out physically made him shudder.

"Shit, that was scary." Peeta winced at how embarrassing that sounded, but he wasn't thinking logically anymore. The fear had morphed into panic, and he couldn't keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "It's weird. I didn't really think about it until now. Like, my life didn't flash before my eyes or anything. Maybe that's because I haven't really lived yet, ya know?"

He shook his head, his gaze unfocused and sporadic. "I mean, I'm young, sure. But … I never really felt alive until I walked into this diner and heard you, saw you." He pinned her in place with his eyes, wide with fear and refound adrenaline. "I fell in love with you that first day, that first second. And I know that sounds crazy, but you have no idea the kind of effect you have on people. I just wish I wasn't so much of a coward that I could have told you this sooner, without the life-and-death threat obviously short-circuiting my system because you look pretty freaked out right now but I can't seem to get the signal from my brain to my mouth that is screaming at me to shut up and …"

"Peeta?"

The unfocused feeling was all-encompassing, not just blurring his vision this time but making his body seem fuzzy and unsettled. Faintly he heard the bell on the door chime with a visitor, a badge shining in the early morning sunrise. His eyes drifted back to Katniss, furrowing as he watched her mouth move but unable to hear any words. She looked worried and scared and he felt terrible about making her feel like that. Until, of course, he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I really do need to post things more often, because it really does work for motivating me to finish writing. Ha. That said, not much else to say other than thank you for reading, and especially thank you to those kind enough to review.

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Katniss crossed her arms tighter over her chest, telling herself it was the chill of the morning air making her shake and not her rattling nerves. It was easy enough to lie to herself as she walked the few blocks from the diner to the address scratched down on the scrap of paper clutched in her hand. Up until that morning, she hadn't given much thought to the bakery where Peeta worked; it wasn't until Haymitch gave her the address did she realize it was literally a stone's throw away, just the opposite way she walked home every morning after her shift - a perfectly good excuse for why she'd never visited before despite what her surly employer thought. Honestly, she still wasn't convinced it was as big of a deal as he'd made it out to be.

After everything that had happened yesterday after the robbery, Haymitch had actually shown a morsel of decency. It, of course, was disguised well under a lot of muttering about being grateful he hadn't needed to train a new waitress or clean up any blood stains. But, even that small iota of care - that could be seen only by her because she'd known him almost literally her whole life - was quickly replaced 30 minutes ago when she'd asked him about Peeta when she'd been clocking out. They'd spit words back and forth between them for about 10 minutes, unintentionally arguing about two completely different things because apparently Haymitch wasn't calling her stupid because she'd asked him if he'd checked on Peeta but because _she hadn't_. The next 10 minutes were spent with her arguing that Haymitch didn't know anything about her life, including that of which was spent at the diner; outside of the past 36 hours, she was sure he'd only been in during her typical graveyard shift a handful of times. However, according to Haymitch, it only took a few seconds to see Peeta was "ass-backwards" in love with her.

That was approximately five minutes ago, which was rightfully longer than it should have taken her to walk to the address Haymitch had finally scribbled down and all-but pushed into her chest. It hadn't actually been malicious; she'd been a little stunned by his confession - which was something that had been happening to her a lot lately. After Peeta's somewhat word-vomited declaration and subsequent fainting, she'd been whisked away by the police officers while the paramedics worked on him. They'd assured her it was common, the trauma shocking the system or whatever, and moved on to getting her statement for the police report. But the last time she'd seen him was as the squad car taking her downtown to identify Cato drove away; Peeta had been sitting up in the back of an ambulance talking to an EMT. Logically she knew that meant he was okay, but when she'd gotten back to the diner yesterday afternoon to pick up her things, he was gone. And he hadn't come in for his usual breakfast this morning, either.

"Mellark Bakery?" Katniss squinted her eyes, looked down at the address in her hand and then back up to the storefront to make sure the numbers matched. Confirmed, she looked higher again at the weathered sign. " _Mellark_ Bakery?"

All feelings of guilt and worry and even sadness were replaced with emotions Katniss was far more familiar with, anger far in the lead. While her and Peeta were on a first-name basis, the latter still paid his bill with a credit card, so she was quite knowledgeable of his last name - and it _wasn't_ because she maybe tested it out loud on her own sometimes, just to hear what it sounded like coming from her own lips. She stormed into the bakery and surveyed the busy environment like a predator seeking its prey. And even through what she had to assume was the morning rush, it didn't take long to find his familiar blonde curls through a small circular window on a swinging door that presumably led to the kitchen in the back. Sidestepping the line of customers, Katniss shoved the door open with both hands and plowed through the entryway with purpose. Peeta was too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to notice her, and she waited the few beats it took for the swinging door to finally cease motion before all but growling, "You _own_ the bakery?"

While the rest of his entire body tensed so still it was like watching a deer realize it had been caught, his feet whirled him around so quickly that she nearly missed the way his eyes widened and the awe in his voice when he all but whispered her name. Ever the huntress, she remained perfectly in the moment, refusing to lessen her scowl even when his stance changed from taut to fidgety. "I suppose I owe you a few other confessions."

She hated to admit it, even just to herself, but his short reply was enough to defuse most of her anger. It immediately caused her to think about everything he'd said yesterday after the incident - words she hadn't _stopped_ thinking about since he'd uttered them. Because while part of her wanted to blame the adrenaline likely coursing through him, the other part of her couldn't help but pair his words with all the others things she'd been hearing from those around her. Could Thresh and Johanna and even Haymitch be right? Could someone like Peeta honestly see anything in someone like Katniss that was worth the heartfelt declaration he'd made?

"I do own the bakery. Opened a few months ago after turning down some pretty great positions in some pretty great cities … making pretty great money." Peeta chuckled humorlessly, and she knew without him saying it that the story behind that story had a lot to do with his mother. But, since she wasn't necessarily interested in that story at the moment, she remained quiet so he could get to the part that was obviously meant for her.

"At the beginning, I basically just lived here, working all the time to get the word out there and then making everything by hand myself. Baker's hours are super early, so I would come in and get everything ready for the morning, go home and nap for about two hours, then come back to help with the rush before doing it all again for lunch." He sighed, as if just talking about his schedule then was exhausting - and it was. "The first day I walked into the diner was Annie's first day of maternity leave. My business partner, Finnick - Annie's husband - basically threatened my life, demanding I go out to eat a real meal instead of living off the muffins here or a quick bowl of cereal at home. He claimed I'd need my energy since I had to obviously takeover more of the front-end work in addition to the baking while both of them were out."

Peeta took a deep breath, looking right into her eyes as he said, "He hasn't let me forget it since I told him, but listening to him was the best thing that ever happened to me … because I met you."

Katniss felt the blush rise to her cheeks immediately, her eyes shifting to the left just to avoid his intense scrutiny. She'd never felt so vulnerable in front of anyone else before, so unhinged and unable to hide her emotions. It felt like he was under her skin, so easily able to understand her without even one word - which was probably good since she wasn't as good with words as he was. At least, she wasn't before meeting him. She still struggled with the feelings part, but then again so did he until the robbery.

In avoiding his gaze, her eyes were trained on the food sitting on trays waiting to go up front. She saw more bread than she'd ever seen before in her life, muffins, pastries, cookies, cakes and even a full refrigerator that likely stocked all the ingredients to make said treats as well as additional items she knew to be available for lunch - like soup and sandwiches. However, what she couldn't see in more than a few passing glances was any pie. Finally turning back to Peeta, her eyes narrowed again when the guilt was as easily recognizable as the unique blue of his eyes.

"Yeah, we don't, um, _technically_ sell pie." His eyebrows lifted sadly, nearly perfecting the look of a puppy done wrong, before attempting to lessen the blow with a meek, "Yet."

She huffed in frustration, her arms lifting out in exasperation. "Why did you even bother to bring me pie nearly every day then?"

He shrugged pathetically, him now the one avoiding her gaze. "It, uh, seemed like the only way to get you to notice me."

Her head shook in reflex, her eyes cast downward as she thought about exactly what she wanted to say. It was true that she didn't pay attention to much. Almost anyone who knew her would confirm that. For so long, all she'd thought about was surviving, living paycheck to paycheck since her father died. She thought about Prim: her happiness; her life; her deserving more. But, Katniss never thought about herself. Nor did she ever both to think about others, really; she'd lived in Panem long enough that she'd learned not to listen to the townspeople. She was used to them talking about her, about her family's _situation_ , that it was no wonder she'd missed all the gossip that Peeta's arrival most certainly would have started. An attractive, single, young owner of a brand new business probably _still_ had the rumor mill churning.

And even though she'd missed all that completely, it hadn't meant she'd missed _him_. He was impossible to ignore, even early on. Physical features aside - which almost wasn't fair because the list was quite lengthy - Peeta managed to toe the line of being really sweet without annoying her to death. Instead, he was like a breath of fresh air. And even though Katniss had a terrible time picking up on people's emotions, even with Prim sometimes, the dark cloud that had been hanging over him that first day with the pie had been obvious. It was like, without his light, everything was dark.

"You're a baker," she found herself uttering, inhaling a deep breath before continuing to speak to the ground about him. "You order tea, but no sugar. You paint. Y-you double-knot your shoes. Your favorite color is orange, like a sunset - and the sunrise, some mornings."

She finally looked up, his expression both causing her to want to look away again but forcing her to not. He looked so earnest, so much like he had yesterday before passing out that even though she still felt completely unnatural talking like this, it also felt right.

"You didn't come into the diner this morning," she said, though the accusation was lost in the frailness of her voice.

It was his turn to be shy, his hand lifting like lead to rub the back of his neck, which she knew he did when he was nervous or stressed. She'd seen him do it more than once in her presence, more early on than once they'd started talking. And, more often than she'd ever admit, she'd thought about what his skin would feel like, massaging those tense neck muscles … or raking her fingers through his golden curls.

"I-I thought maybe you wouldn't want me to."

She shook her head again, this time with force. It was less of a reflex and more instinct. Survival instinct, like what she imagined had kicked in for Peeta yesterday during the robbery. It wasn't exactly life or death, but it did feel like do or die. Either she said it out loud and saw where things could go, or she stayed silent - and she knew where that road led. She'd been living that life for more than 10 years. And, as scary as it was, Peeta was the only one since her father who made her feel safe. Yesterday, after she was done with all the police stuff and finally all alone at home, she couldn't believe how she'd talked to Cato. Katniss was never one to shy away from a fight or to not stand up for herself, but she couldn't believe how reckless she had been, especially after she'd known he had a gun. But, still, something had made her stay strong. Or, she thought later and still did, someone. Peeta made her feel brave, and not even just in that extreme moment, but everyday; everyday he visited, she felt brave enough to just be herself with him, and now to finally think that maybe someone could see beauty in that.

"I missed you."

She couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face as she watched his resulting grin grow wider and wider. She even felt her own bubble of laughter escape when he breathed out heavily and fell into a nervous chuckle that she'd heard before but never thought to associate it with her making him nervous. While it was still new to her and a bit unsettling, part of her liked the power she seemed to have over him; it only seemed fair given the amount of sway he obviously had over her.

"Finnick will be here in a few minutes, then I can leave." He cleared his throat. "I, uh, know a great place a few blocks over that has some pretty excellent pie, if you'd be interested."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his planned activity, biting her tongue to avoid asking if he'd found out about the place in his research to deceive her. Instead, she took a tentative step forward and pressed her lips against his, letting her fingers toy with a few strands of his hair before trailing down to his prominent jaw line and then falling away completely when she stepped away back to her original position. That same damn small smile crept back onto her face as she watched his eyes slowly open, his expression so earnest and perfect that she couldn't help but nod into her answer.

"I'll allow it."


End file.
